Pretty, Pretty
by the-razors-and-the-dying-roses
Summary: The shadows cast by the half-closed drapes provide the perfect disguise. You stand, enveloped by darkness, and wait. Marluxia/Roxas, non-con


A/N: Warning for overuse of parallel structure and of the word "pretty"

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Square Enix and Disney!

**Pretty Pretty**

The shadows cast by the half-closed drapes provide the perfect disguise. You stand, enveloped by darkness, and wait. You wait for the light footsteps to enter the kitchen, wait for the sound of a quiet voice whispering to itself in an otherwise silent room, wait for the moonlight to illuminate the pretty, pretty face of the pretty, pretty boy. You wait for the same thing you wait for every night.

You forget how long this has been going on for. Night after night of watching, _wanting,_ tend to run together. Lately, however, that wanting had become stronger- a lust for- no, an insatiable desire to feel the younger nobody writhe beneath you.

You are so caught up in thought you don't hear somebody- or rather, nobody- enter the kitchen. The light radiated out of the open refrigerator breaks you out of your reverie and you focus all you attention on the being responsible for shattering your trance. You smile; it's him. After weeks of watching silently from the shadows, it's finally time to reward yourself for such dedication.

"Good evening, XIII." you say, stepping into the silver moonlight. The boy jumps and whips around, shadows dancing across his pretty, pretty face. "Or rather, good morning. Up late, aren't you?"

"M-Marluxia! I didn't expect – I – You don't just go sneaking up behind people in the dark like that!"

You laugh softly. "My sincerest apologies, Roxas. I didn't mean to frighten you." You take a step towards the boy. Roxas- his name feels like chocolate mousse on your tongue: soft, creamy, and erotic. You wonder if he tastes the same way.

"I was just looking for something to eat. It's sort of become a nightly ritual." Roxas says nervously, scratching the back of his head. You are hit with the overwhelming desire to reach out and stroke his pretty, pretty cheek, kiss his pretty, pretty lips, lick the pretty, pretty skin hidden by his pyjamas.

"Ah, yes." you say instead. "I also have my nightly practices. But tonight- tonight will be an exception." You move closer to him and he backs into the counter behind him.

"Well, I'm just gonna go to bed." he says, shifting his eyes right, then left, looking for way to get past you.

You feel a smirk creeping its way onto your face as you loop your arms around his hips and pull him into you. You bend down and whisper in his ear. "You're already leaving? I haven't even gotten started yet." You trail the tip of your tongue up the shell of Roxas's ear. "Although I wouldn't argue if you were going back to _my_ bed."

Roxas pulls out of your embrace and backs towards the hallway, fear easily visible in his pretty, pretty eyes. You advance forward once more, backing Roxas up against the kitchen table. One of your hands makes its way up to his cheek. You smile when you hear his breath hitch at the contact. The other hand slides up the back of his shirt, your nails running up and down his spine. He feels so soft, so warm, so _irresistible_. You lean down to kiss those pretty, pretty lips of his, but he turns his head away. Your nails find themselves digging into his back, and he arches forward into your chest. You tightly wrap both arms around his waist, your face buried in his pretty, pretty hair.

"Has anyone ever told you how _pretty_ you are?" you whisper. He whimpers in response. Smirking, you capture his lips in a rough kiss. Roxas makes no motion to pull away. You let a satisfied smile take the place of your former smirk. Either way, you were going to have him, but it was going to be _much_ easier if he didn't struggle.

You slide him onto the kitchen table, climbing up after him and straddling his waist. The moonlight falls across Roxas's face, illuminating every pretty, pretty feature on his pretty, pretty face. You place a soft kiss on each of these features as you unbutton his shirt slowly, savouring the feel of each inch of exposed flesh. When you get to the bottom, you slide the soft fabric off Roxas's arms and begin to tug at the waistband of his flannel pyjama pants as your tongue glides across the newly exposed, smooth expanse of angelic flesh underneath you.

When all of Roxas's clothes have been discarded in a pile on the floor, you lay your body lightly on top of his and whisper into his ear as his eyes, wide with fear and dark with hopelessness stare at the ceiling above him. "You're so pretty, Roxas. And tonight-" You lick your lips "-every inch of your pretty, pretty body will finally be mine."

You make your way back to your room some time later, sticky, sweaty, and exhausted, but perversely satisfied, still on a high from the delicious sounds coaxed out of Roxas's throat while you fucked him into the dark wood of the table. The memory of his pretty, pretty body being slammed into the table again and again by yours remains vivid in your mind, but after, all you can remember is that you pulled his hot body close to yours and whispered "I love you" into his matted hair before sliding off the table and starting back towards your room, leaving the pretty, pretty boy shivering and crying on the kitchen table.

A/N: Any reviews or constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated!


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